Monday Morning Musings:
Men should be what they seem,
Or those that be not, would they might seem none!
–William Shakespeare, Othello, Act III, Scene iii
“ they are not men o’ their words: they told me I was everything; ’tis a lie…”
–William Shakespeare, King Lear, Act IV, Scene vi
“Here’s wishing you the bluest sky
And hoping something better comes tomorrow
Hoping all the verses rhyme,
And the very best of choruses to
Follow all the doubt and sadness
I know that better things are on their way.”
–from Dar Williams, “Better Things”
We walk through a living, mortal city
see buildings transformed
here an insurance building, now condominiums
a Starbucks at its base

is the history erased
or still held there, a trace of perfume or smoke
left somewhere in a bit of old oak
and here, the cobblestones and bricks remain
some things, perhaps, stay the same

We travel through space and time
in books, movies, theater, art
from my small town’s fall festival
to Philadelphia streets
then we enter the London theater
of centuries ago—a show,
the stage framed with the red velvet proscenium curtains
uncertain what we will see
amongst the esteemed company
there at Convent Garden
where a substitute actor
steps in to play the part of Othello, the Moor–
a black man? Well, that’s not been done before!
A character declares, “People come to the theater to get away from reality.”
The cast members of this well-known London troupe are divided,
some undecided about how they feel,
but willing to try some new techniques
or at least to somewhat tweak
their stylized manner and gestures
though scandalized at how Othello touches Desdemona
Do they understand the play and his persona?
We see a bit of the handkerchief scene
enough to glean how it might have been
the critics were vicious, in racist prose
derided Ira Aldridge’s performance in the show.
He is an anomaly upon the stage
We see there both passion and his rage
later hear him, as Lear in madness decry the lies
as fury builds and slowly dies,
around him, slavery still exists
(and even now)
though we can hope through sorrow
that better things come tomorrow
and better things are on their way
We discuss and dine
and drink some wine
(well, beer for him)
we’re both well pleased by the cheese
that we nibble sitting there as day turns to night
caressed by a breeze
perhaps it’s wandered round the world
unfurled and carried hope and sorrow
and we discuss the present and the lies
ignorance that triumphs over facts or the wise
but still we hope that tomorrow
better things are on their way
Younger daughter and I go to a concert
Dar Williams sang of the pagans and Christians
sitting at the table–
and just like them, we’re able to sit with different folk
but at least they were silent, and no one spoke
and I was more fascinated than annoyed
by the man touching the woman and the other woman stroking her hair
both unaware, I suppose, that we couldn’t help but stare
as we enjoyed the songs, the reading, our food and wine
so yes, we also came to dine
(a bit like the Gilmore Girls—
if they were vegetarians with curls)
and Dar sang of the babysitter, now urban planner
and “positive proximity”
(despite city’s life often anonymity)
she spoke of transformations she has seen
spaces empty and dark, now full of life, green
and when she sang “Iowa,” we all sang along
we all sang the chorus to the song
and despite lost hopes in November
our fears and sorrow
we left in hopes for better things tomorrow
that better things are on their way
In the blood
in the dreams
in the cities
and in the seams
and it seems
and it seems
that we wade through streams
against the current
things that are and things that weren’t
sometimes floating
ever light
drifting far and out of sight
journeys through space, time, day, and night
to ponder, to wonder
at art’s spell, we fall under
does it hide or amplify
the truth and the lies
and those who are afraid of women
and those who lie, quite unredeemed
or even worse
(notes on a theme)
they are exactly what they seem
but in our sorrow, we can dream of tomorrow
and let hope linger here, now stay
better things are on their way
We saw Red Velvet at the Lantern Theater Company. The play is based on the life of the real actor, Ira Aldridge. We saw Dar Williams at World Cafe Live.